


Waters of Reflection

by YoMo715



Series: Remembered Anew (Breath of the Wild Ficlets) [4]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst, Other, Ouch, Post-Calamity, Sidon POV, Zora's Domain, if you ship sidlink you'd probably like this, im not a sidlink shipper tho, link and sidon are bros, mentions character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 00:04:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12287037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoMo715/pseuds/YoMo715
Summary: Link struggles to cope with the loss of his memories after he frees Mipha's spirit from Vah Ruta.





	Waters of Reflection

It was nearly dawn by the time Link returned from battle. Almost two days, the boy spent crawling the...the  _ tomb _ of Vah Ruta. The divine beast wasn’t a tomb, of course, but that was what the Zoran people had taken to calling it over the better part of a century. 

It had been so long since Ruta returned to a symbol of hope. But it had. It had when the burning red of Ganon’s fire washed away, bathing the eastern reservoir lake in a refreshing blue light. Immediate and absolute. 

The domain erupted in cheer.  _ She is free!  _

Sidon did not rejoice alongside them. His grin was wide, wide as ever, but his eyes were filled with a kind of solitude. Solemn. Melancholic. 

The events of the day passed in the blink of an eye. Link recounted his experience of the beast, and the King thanked him by gifting him the Lightscale Trident.  _ Her  _ Trident. And just as Sidon’s, Link’s smile was grateful, but his eyes were empty. 

Then they were swept in the joyful celebration, which went well into the night. 

Still, Sidon was awake before first light, as he always was. 

The world at dawn was  _ lazy.  _ Pale lights thinned the horizon, the sun still asleep with the fishes and even the birds. A fine mist covered the domain like a fog. It was a lax, hazy, groggy morning. 

The Zoran prince ambled down the grand staircase to the main plaza, filling his lungs with the scent of fish and freshwater as he gazed at his home. For once, it felt peaceful. Not tense. Not somber. But harmonious and placid. 

His eyes wandered to the monument of his beloved sister. She almost looked...happy. Despite being a stone cold statue. 

Maybe it was because she was gazing at  _ her _ beloved. 

The hero stood below the statue, still clutching the trident in both hands while he gazed up at the monument. There was a certain level of focus in his eyes. Not the kind of deep contemplation or meditation, but instead of  _ desperate longing.  _

Full of loneliness. 

Sidon noticed the travel pack at Link’s feet. “Leaving so soon, my friend?” His tones were soft spoken, but they pierced through the peace of dawn like needles.

Link’s eyes flickered to the tall Zora, undeterred. He nodded once, his only reaction, then looked back to the statue.

“Why not stay a little while longer?” The prince suggested. “The festivities are bound to go on for few more days, at least.” He flashed the hylian a toothy grin. “You know how we Zora are.”

Link visibly tensed at the last phrase. He shook his head, turning away to collect his pack. “I can’t stay.” Was all he muttered. 

Sidon was silent as he watched Link begin to move. A realization stirred in his mind, and the host within him came bursting forth. “I am sorry, Link.” He announced on a somber note. “I did not realize how difficult it must be to stay here.” 

Link stopped walking. 

Sidon pressed on. “So many years have passed. So many memories that were once joyful, turned sour by time.” He frowned. “I know how you must feel — ”

“That’s not it.” Link interrupted the prince mid-sentence. He was looking at Sidon now, an emotionless mask covering his expression, but traces of grief wrinkled his eyes. 

“What is it, then?” Sidon probed with genuine concern.  

Link’s gaze grew more empty. He turned away again, shaking his head. “It’s not because I remember.” His voice was so quiet. Hoarse from disuse and filled with so much  _ pain. “ _ It’s because I — I  _ don’t. _ ” 

“You ‘don’t’?” Sidon repeated, a reflection of Link’s statement. He was puzzled. “I thought you said you remembered her?” 

Link’s shoulders sagged. “It was one thing,” he whispered. “The  _ only _ memory I have of this place.” 

“I see,” Sidon fell quiet. He looked to the statue of his sister for guidance, wondering how painful it must be to be told of memories he didn’t have. 

A stifling silence filled between them. The light of dawn burned away the mist, the crystals of the cape gleaming prisms of color into the domain. Bright sunshine; a nearly forgotten sight to the Zora. Their home was blighted by heavy rains from the divine beast for the better half of the season. 

“What a shame. It would have been a beautiful summer,” Sidon muttered under his breath. “If I may confide in you, my friend,” he piped up, gaze drawn to the small Hylian. “You and I are not unlike each other in that aspect.” 

Link furrowed his brow. “What do you mean by that?” 

“I don’t remember Mipha, either.” 

The hero seemed shaken from those few words. Widened eyes, dry throat, shock traced from his high brow down to his clenched jaw. “Oh,” was all he said. 

“I was too young, barely out of the egg.” Sidon continued regardless, eyes turned back to the cold carving of his sister’s face. “I have a few memories: her graceful dive, the glint of the trident that completed her royal regalia, her smile. Little things, but nothing important.” He heaved a sigh. “All impressions are based on stories. I admire her, deeply, that is true, but I do not know her as the others do.” 

Another long moment of silence fell between them. It felt like a kind of mourning. They both stood, side by side, two brothers in grief, locked on the eyes of the statue. As though a forgotten memory would return. But Sidon knew, like searching the murky depths of an endless ocean, he would find no such memory. 

There were none left to find.  

His contemplations were cut short by a small sound, so distinct it left a ripple in the tranquil morning air. 

A laugh. Small, breathy, singular — but an unmistakable sign of happiness. 

It was Sidon’s turn for surprise. He broke his gaze and turned to Link, where he found the hero’s eyes downcast. There was a hint of a smile on his face. It was a forlorn smile, but it was true. “I’m sorry, Sidon.” Link spoke, quiet as ever. “I misjudged you. I didn’t think anyone else would understand.” 

Confusion melted with Sidon’s own smile. “I do!” He exclaimed, reaching to grasp Link’s tiny hand for a handshake. “Truly, I do, Link!” His smile brightened. As Sidon shook Link’s hand, the Hylian’s whole arm jerked in an awkward motion, up and down in quick succession. Another series of laughs came from Link next. This time they were brighter, lighter than the one moments prior. The sadness in his eyes began to lift. 

“Thank you for telling me,” Link answered. 

Sidon nodded. “Of course, Link. Please know that you are always welcome to Zora’s Domain, regardless of the memories you’ve lost. Here, you are among friends,” he assured. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Link unclasped Mihpa’s Lightscale Trident from his belt. His grip was strong, hands clenching the rod just a little too tight. Sidon realized Link’s intentions as he saw the hero’s small smile falter. 

“You were planning on leaving it here,” The prince muttered. Less of a question, more of a statement. 

Link dipped his head. His shoulders sagged, giving Sidon the impression that the trident suddenly grew heavier. “I was going to give it back to her,” Link admitted. “I don’t deserve it.”

This time, it was the Zora who laughed. Sidon’s laugh was much different from Link’s. It was a proud, howling cackle, filled with warmth and breath all the way from his toes to his chest. “Absurd!” he boasted. “Your heroic efforts alone are proof enough that you deserve the Trident!”

Before the prince could finish, though, Link shook his head. “No.” His unnatural grip on the Trident tightened, so taught that the leather of his archer gloves made an audible noise. Almost likened to the feeling of grinding one’s teeth. “It has nothing to do with that.” His breath hitched. “I can’t accept this.” he whispered, voice beginning to wobble. “I’m not worthy of her memory.”

Sidon frowned. Such a personal feeling, an understandable qualm Link had. He gave the Trident a good look. It glittered like jewels in the newfound sunlight, mid morning hues of blue replacing the lazy paleness of dawn. No wonder it looked so heavy. “You will be,” he assured again, a small whisper, but one of faint optimism. 

Link’s eyes meandered, from the floor to the arches along the bridge of the Domain. Angry tears glistened in his eyes. He huffed, a long, shaky exhale. “I wish I could remember.” A kind of impatience laced with his tone of voice. “I thought maybe, after a few days, things would start to come back. But still...nothing. Not even a faint recollection of this place. I feel like a stranger being told things about someone else.” 

Again, silence. Sidon tried to think of some way, any possible words or actions that could be taken to console his friend. But there was nothing.  

Resigned, Sidon extended his hands, outstretched to Link, palms upward. “I believe you will always be worthy of my sister’s Grace.” He spoke with sincerity. “But if this is your wish, then I will honor it.”

Link relaxed at that. His breath rattled once, eyes closed in remorse. But when they opened again, something ignited in them. Determination.  _ Courage.  _ The hero smiled up at the prince. “Thank you. Please keep it safe.” He bowed his head, a sign of respect, and placed the Lightscale Trident in Sidon’s open palms. 

The Zora nodded. He took the trident — which  _ still _ felt heavier than he thought it would — in his grip, allowing its weight to sink in. “I will,” he answered at first. 

Link showed Sidon a slow nod, then walked toward the arches. 

He was nearly to the bridge when the prince called to him. “Promise me, you will return for it!” 

The hero turned back. The sad look lingered in his eyes, but he nodded in agreement. “I promise.” He assured. Then, a thought crossed his mind. “When I do, I’ll be able to share more stories about your sister with you!” 

At this, Sidon beamed. “Yes! Please do!” 

Link did return for the trident. It wasn’t for several years, long after the calamity had fallen, but his heart was full and mind filled with fresh stories for his royal Zoran friend. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated!


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